


Swollen

by syriala



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018 [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: Derek was still in bed, sleepily blinking in Stiles' direction, but he clearly wasn’t intending to move any time soon, just languidly stretching out on the bed, kicking the covers down just enough to reveal his tattoo on his bare back.





	Swollen

Stiles leaned against the doorway, clutching his coffee to his chest, and took a moment to enjoy the view.

Derek was still in bed, sleepily blinking in his direction, but he clearly wasn’t intending to move any time soon, just languidly stretching out on the bed, kicking the covers down just enough to reveal his tattoo on his bare back.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, because he knew exactly what Derek was doing, and it was working so well. So damn well.

Stiles was a morning person, up at the crack at dawn and already jittery with restless energy before he even had his first coffee, so taking a nap now, three hours after he had gotten up, really wasn’t what he was looking for.

But Derek was so damn tempting, lazily rolling half naked in bed, lips kiss swollen and hair disheveled. Stiles was especially proud of Derek’s plush lips, because it turned out that not even werewolf healing could counter hours of making out and so Stiles got to enjoy the fruit of his labor in the most delicious way possible.

It was sad enough already that bruises and hickeys didn’t keep for long, but at least Stiles had this to enjoy.

“Come back to bed,” Derek mumbled, eyes still half closed, but smiling at Stiles and Stiles had never seen anything more beautiful.

His skin was almost golden in the morning light, dusted over with black since Stiles had finally convinced Derek to stop with the pointless waxing, and Stiles wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over Derek’s body.

Not even in a sexual manner, but just because it looked so good. Like marble, carved to perfection in the most adorable statue Stiles had ever seen.

And as if Derek wanted to proof his point, he pouted at Stiles, adorably pushing his lower lip out and making exaggerated faces at Stiles, who couldn’t help the fond smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” he chided Derek, but still stepped closer to the bed, unable to resist Derek.

Derek whined and grabbed the hem of Stiles’ shirt as soon as he was in reach, before he slid his hand under it and smoothed it over Stiles’ stomach and then back, trying to pull him closer.

“Come back to bed,” Derek said again, voice still low, and rough from sleep.

“Can’t,” Stiles regretfully said, because Derek was more than tempting him, but Stiles was already twitching, and he knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep.

Still, he put the coffee cup down, and pushed his hand through Derek’s hair, making it stick up even more. When Derek pushed up and into his hand, Stiles swallowed the dog joke he had on his tongue and instead scratched at Derek’s scalp.

“You know I can’t come back to bed,” Stiles told him again, and immediately tensed when Derek finally opened his eyes completely.

Stiles knew that look, knew that Derek was up to some mischief, but he wasn’t quick enough to move out of reach. Derek’s other hand shot out, grabbing him around the waist and dragging him onto the bed.

“No!” Stiles yelled, flailing his hands around and trying to get back out.

But Derek was too fast, plopping down on top of Stiles and effectively trapping him with his body.

Stiles groaned when Derek rested his whole weight on him after he wriggled around to get into a comfortable position, and then Stiles pushed at his shoulders.

“Get off me,” he complained but Derek only hummed, and dragged his nose up and down Stiles’ neck.

“It’s cuddle time,” Derek mumbled. “Scratch my scalp again,” he demanded then and Stiles huffed.

“You’re awfully bossy for being half asleep,” Stiles said, but dutifully put his hand back into Derek’s hair, resuming the scratching from earlier.

Derek almost purred, lying on top of Stiles, face pressed into his neck and growing heavier with every minute.

“Don’t fall asleep again, cuddle time will be over soon,” Stiles warningly said, but he was only met with a very exaggerated snore.

“You don’t snore,” Stiles chided and slapped his hand against Derek shoulder, who chuckled.

“Good to know,” Derek said and then wrapped his arm around Stiles’ middle for good measure, too.

Stiles was well and truly trapped now, because there was no way he was ever getting Derek off him again if he didn’t cooperate. Stiles was still jittery and restless, but Derek’s weight grounded him, and he unconsciously matched his breaths to Derek’s.

Stiles didn’t really fall asleep again, but he dozed off more than once, but he never stopped carding his fingers through Derek’s hair and Derek never really stopped purring.

It wasn’t the worst nap he had ever taken.


End file.
